


In Need Of A Home

by Maxiell



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Animal Shelter, Awkward Dates, Dog: Australian Shepherd, Fluff, M/M, POV Jean Kirstein, Pets, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxiell/pseuds/Maxiell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://theappleppielifestyle.tumblr.com">theappleppielifestyle's</a> prompt:<br/>'i asked a staff member and they said you’ve been coming to the pound every day to play with the dog i’m taking home today and that’s why you’re getting weirdly emotional’ au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fluffy fic that I've been writing alongside some heavier, plot and research filled stories, and is basically just a fun way to overcome writer's block and explore different narratives.  
> I'm still very rusty, so all comments and advice would be greatly appreciated, especially since first person and present tense have never been my forte.  
> I cannot thank the people who left comments and kudos on my last work enough - you really gave me confidence, courage, and motivation. I hope you like this silly story just as much!

It’s not that I don’t understand why people get upset at pounds. There’s a lot of dogs, they’re all incredibly cute, and most of them are at their gates, tails wagging and crying for attention as you walk down the horribly cold corridor. It makes you wish you could pick them all up and take them home. That feeling’s ten-fold with the dogs that don’t, the ones that stay in the corner and glance at you with sad, droopy eyes. But as much as you wish you could bundle them all into your car and race home like you’ve just held up a bank; shower them with love and become the cynical, asocial, _‘Dissociated Dog Man’_ equivalent of the _Crazy Cat Lady_ , there’s only so much space in your home and funds available for vet bills. Don’t even get me started on the limited patience I have for the tedious paperwork and house inspections.

So, yeah. I get the teary eyed longing and the guilt burdened shoulders of people in these places.

This though, is a bit weird.

“Um,” the receptionist’s eyes are as sharp and pointed as her make-up when they snap to me. “There’s a guy. By the kennels? He’s, um,” I shuffle a bit behind the tall counter, her tangible impatience just making my hesitation worse. I’m not usually like this. I’m pretty straight forward, and I’m good at dealing with my own emotions. But _other peoples…_ “He’s, _crying_.”

I feel so uncomfortable.

“Crying?” There’s the smallest of fractures in her stone mask in the shape of a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s trying really hard not to show it, but he’s _obviously_ crying. And… talking to himself.” I look down at my fidgeting hands, an uneasy sweat binging to break out across my skin. “Actually, it might be _sobbing_ , I don’t-” I fiddle with the bright red handle and shiny chain of the brand new lead in my hands, vaguely noting – in an attempt to distance myself from the awkwardness – that it won’t ever be as clean and nice as this again. If I can bring myself to get close enough to the hysterical man to finally pick Evie up, that is. The odds aren’t looking too good. “He, was shaking too. I don’t really know what’s going on, or what to do.”

“Huh.” I look at her, and for an infuriating second, I think that’s all she’s going to say. “Does he work here?”

“How should I know?” I snap, throwing my arms onto the _ridiculously_ high counter to lean over and sneer at her. “Do you usually have hysterically crying, grown-ass men on your rota? Shouldn’t it be immediately obvious who it is, or is ‘overemotional’ or ‘hard-faced’ the only type of employees you’ve got here?”

What little interest she had falls in an instant, and she turns back to her computer and resumes her furious typing, every harsh _clack_ hitting my already irritated nerves.

“If he’s wearing a light blue or dark green polo, he’s one of ours.” She grumbles, entirely uncaring of whether I’m listening or not. “If he isn’t, he doesn’t work here, and not our problem.”

“Not your problem?” I ask as the fuzzy image of a dark blue hoodie and faded jeans cross my mind. “How am I supposed to pick up my dog if he’s sitting, _crying_ , right next to the kennel?”

The grating clacking stops as she gives me a blank stare.

“Not. My. Problem.”

She goes back to whatever nonsense she’s typing – I refuse to believe she’s actually making coherent words, not with how fast her fingers are moving – and I know that’s all the help I’m going to get. I move away from the desk, and run a hand through my hair, wincing at the thought of having to confront the man myself.

I hate people crying. It’s so awkward and uncomfortable, and I never know what to do. It’s kind of selfish too, really. I don’t see why they can’t just wait until they get home.

“Jean?” I turn to see Sandra - the middle-aged lady who walked me through most of the paperwork and was in charge of the last house visit - come out of the back room and walk round the counter towards me. “I thought you went through to pick Evie up? Is everything okay?”

“No.” I reply instantly. “There’s a guy right next to her crying, and I can’t get her out.” I don’t explain that as soon as I registered the confusing image as someone having an emotional breakdown, I ran the hell away to find someone else to deal with the mess.

“Crying?” I nod as she seems baffled for a moment, before she frowns in thought. “What does he look like?”

Seriously? There are _possibilities_ of who this guy is? Surely I’ve not become so far removed from society, that _this_ – sobbing adults – is normal, public behaviour.

“I don’t know.” I grit out. “I saw someone having a meltdown, and thought it would be best to get someone with some authority to handle it.” A half-truth.

“Did he have dark hair? Kind of tall? Freckles?”

It takes a long while for me to do anything other than stare at her.

“He was kneeling on the floor crying. I didn’t think to take notes on how he would have looked had he been normal, and _not sobbing on the floor_.” The image of him comes to mind again, and I begrudgingly mumble, “I think he had black hair though.”

She sighs and rubs at her neck tiredly, a sad and sympathetic look crossing her face. “It’s probably Marco.” She says, and then doesn’t move.

“Great. Well I’m glad that mystery’s solved, but can you _do_ something please? I just want my dog. I’m very sorry for _Marco’s_ loss, break-up, accident, whatever; but you guys can work that stuff out somewhere _other_ than right outside Evie’s kennel.”

“It’s nothing like that.” She sighs again, waving her hand in front of her face as if to dismiss my words. “He’s just very attached to Evie. He was so upset when I told him she’d finally been adopted.”

The irritation and awkwardness cinches into a new, surprised tension in my body, and blink at her confused. “What?”

“He tried to adopt her once.” She explains, finally moving towards the corridor and I mindlessly follow her. “But he didn’t pass the house inspections. He’s come in here every day since to see and play with her.”

I suddenly feel bad for the things I said, and how uncomfortable I find the situation. If there was one thing I could empathise with other people, it’s the irrational amount of love you could have for a pet. And Evie was basically this guy’s pet, would have been entirely had those stupidly strict house regulations not been in play. Of course, I’m thankful for them now though, ‘cause as bad as I feel for the guy, if he’d passed, I’d never have had a chance to meet Evie, and she already means so much to me.

“I’ll see if I can-”

“I’ll talk to him.” I interrupt her, surprising myself as much as her. My body already starts to react to my mouth’s betrayal, nervous jitters sending my limbs fidgeting, and an uncomfortable prickling irritating my skin. I’m _really_ not good with other people’s emotions. With any luck, he’s stopped crying by now. Please. Please have stopped crying. “I-it’s probably for the best, right? I should, probably talk to him.”

“Whatever you think.” She placates, slowly opening the door we stopped in front of, and gently guiding me into the hallway. “I’ll be out front, if you want any help.” I nod with a gulp, and take a tentative step into the cold corridor like it’s the Dead Marshes. “He’s very sweet,” she whispers with a sad smile. “He won’t give you trouble.”

I nod again as she closes the door behind me, and only then do I take another step. And another, and another, until the hunched form and soft sniffles become clearer, and I’m actually approaching the man.

Evie notices me first, her tail wagging furiously, but she doesn’t move away from the man and his fingers playing with her fur through the bars. He smiles at her eagerness, wet eyes shining, before it dawns on him _why_ she’s acting like that, and his head whips to the side to meet my eyes as I slowly reach the kennel.

“H-hi.” I stutter out as he shoots to his feet and hurriedly swipes his arms and hands over his face, an embarrassed flush rising to his already rosy cheeks.

I want to run away.

“H-hey,” he chokes, moving his hands to fidget in the pockets of his hoodie, revealing sticky – and indeed freckled – cheeks and disarrayed hair. He forces a weak and wobbling smile, and tries to chirp as if I hadn’t just caught him crying his eyes out. “Are you here to pick her up?”

I just about manage a stiff nod.

“Ah, how nice.” I can see his throat bob as he swallows and turns to the side to look down at Evie. “S-she’s a cute one.” We both wince as his voice cracks, and he seems to realise that the façade he’s putting up isn’t working, that the effort he’s putting into keeping that faltering smile stretched isn’t worth it, as it finally crumbles and a hand comes up to rub at the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Sorry,” he coughs, turning back to me, and I can only assume the forced raising of one side of his lips is compulsive, because the eyes that meet mine are red and unsettlingly dull. “You must think I’m so silly, but these places just make me so sad.” His arm drops limply, and he looks to the side again. “At least this one gets a good home.”

Nothing feels quite as awkward as seeing someone believe their lying is working, when you fully know they’re lying, and you can’t just play along and let the incident pass and be forgotten.

I’m good with confrontation, but when the other guy’s likely to get even more embarrassed, and maybe even _cry again_ …

I scratch at the clammy skin of my forearm and take a deep breath before I just dive in head first.

“They, uh.” My eyes quickly snap to the floor when he looks at me. “They told me you come play with her every day.”

I don’t know what kind of response I was expecting, and when I think about it, what _do_ you say to something like that. But I expect something, and the silence that follows is almost as bad as his muffled sobbing that had welcomed me when I first stepped in.

I raise my eyes when he still doesn’t reply, and he looks suitably surprised. “You’re Marco, right?” Of course his fucking Marco you idiot! You know that, he knows that. _Evie_ probably knows that!

He actually takes a step back when I say his name, and then a strange mixture of embarrassment and betrayal contorts his face and makes his body fidget.

“I, didn’t see anyone familiar when I walked in here. Did they,” he frowns at the floor, glancing at me quickly. “Did they _warn_ you about me?”

“No!” My hands rise quickly in front of me. “No, of course not! I er. I came in, a bit earlier, and er, saw you. Cr-crying.” I mumble, and we both blush in embarrassment. “And I went to get hel- actually, if I’m honest, I ran away and tried to find someone else to deal with it, and that’s when they told me it was probably you.”

His face is impossibly red, and he shuffles a bit further away from me as if that’ll change what I’ve seen, heard, and said. Another beat of silence, and not for the first time, I wish I was better at handling these situations.

Not _this_ situation. Confronting a crying man beside the kennel of the dog I’m adopting, is not a frequent occurrence in my life. And I’ve got to be really unlucky if this happens to me again.

But situations with feelings. Emotions that can’t, and - even I know - shouldn’t be ignored. Where I need to converse somewhere in the No Man’s Land between the polite, passing small talk of strangers, and the filter-less chatter of friends.

Thankfully, Marco, like everyone else, quickly realises that he’s going to have to be the more active role if there’s going any progress beyond awkwardly standing in silence.

He looks at me with a more sturdy quick of his lips, though his face is still flushed and his eyes remain sad.

“You ran away?”

Well. That certainly wasn’t what I was expecting, but I’ll fucking snatch it and grip onto it for dear life.

“Uh. Yeah. Sorry.” I try my own shaky smile and rub at my shoulder. “I’m just, I’m not very good with… _tears_ , y’know?”

“Oh?” He faces me a bit more fully, and though it’s small, his smile is genuine and _teasing_. “Macho Man are we?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” I scoff, but suddenly, I’m acutely aware of my aggressive nature, physical recoiling from other people’s feelings, and my highly valued, mile long front. I run a nervous hand through my hair as I feel a ridiculous heat in my cheeks. “…Well, maybe.”

Marco laughs.

It’s not loud, and it doesn’t last long, but it’s heartfelt and poorly hidden behind a polite hand, and it eases some of the tension from my body.

An excited yelp and soft a _clang_ draws both our attention to Evie who’s jumped up against the bars next to me, wagging her tail, begging for some attention from me and no doubt eyeing the forgotten lead in my hand with some anticipation.

I chuckle and crouch down, pushing my fingers through the gaps to stroke her nose as she bounces back down, barely noticing the way she evaporates my lingering unease. I smile as she pants and licks relentlessly at my hand, and I’m reminded of how I can’t wait to take her home.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Marco whispers, and I turn just in time to see a forlorn smile before he takes a step away.

“Wait! You don’t have to go.” He shakes his head.

“This, this is a special moment. I don’t want to intrude anymore.”

He’s right, it is special. But… well, I wouldn’t say the day was already ruined, but it certainly hadn’t gone the way I had imagined it would over and over again last night. Him staying a little longer isn’t going to make a difference.

“I don’t mind.” I offer, even if he still looks a little emotional for my comfort. But I can imagine what it must feel like, to see the dog you fell in love with being taken home by someone else, and if I was him… “They… they told me you tried to adopt her.” I honestly don’t know why he seems so surprised, but his watery eyes widen, and I have to force myself to keep eye contact. “Don’t you want to say a proper goodbye?”

I stand as he takes his time in answering, only moving to unlock the door when he gives a single, downcast nod.

As soon as she hears the _click_ , Evie can barely contain herself. She starts bouncing by the door, barking high and loud amongst the other dogs’ constant noise.

“Alright, alright.” I shuffle the gate open slowly, and she quiets as I bend down awkwardly to clip the lead to her collar with one hand, though she never stops wriggling.

I know I must have the dorkiest smile on my face, but I don’t care.

She bounds out as soon as the door’s open enough, and makes her way to Marco in a weird, excited squirming. He chuckles as he crouches down to meet her, his hands instantly burying in her thick coat with a breathless, “Heya girly.”

I lock up the beautifully empty kennel, and kneel next to them, stroking a hand repeatedly along her back. It’s apparently an invitation for Marco to open up to me.

“I tried to adopt her a couple months ago.” He starts, eyes never leaving Evie and fond smile holding up a lot stronger than any of his previous. “They rejected me ‘cause my apartment’s too small. I mean, it is small, and I understand why they’d have reservations, but I live on Jinae street.” He pauses to look at me. “You know it?”

“Uh, yeah.” I look away as I try to recollect where I know the name. “It’s by King’s Park right?”

“Yep.” He goes back to fussing over Evie. “My front door is literally 4 meters away from the entrance. And it’s a _huge_ park. I figured it was as good as having a garden, especially since I’m on ground level too. But the guy who came round was like,” Marco frowns dramatically and pushes his chin into his neck to drop his voice. “ _This place isn’t suitable for any dog, never mind one as energetic as an Australian Shepherd. What were you thinking?_ ”

“What a dick.” I snort, and Marco gives me a small, appreciative smile.

“Yeah. But that was it then. Once he made his report, they weren’t interested in my ideas or explanations, and he certainly never was. I mean, they’re probably right, but I was kinda upset they wouldn’t even try listening.” There’s a small, awkward pause before Marco thankfully continues. “I kept coming in because I really lov-loved her, y’know? And I didn’t want her to be lonely any more. I was actually kinda surprised it took so long for someone else to show interest.”

I hum in agreement, fixatedly watching our hands thoroughly spoil her. “I fell in love as soon as I saw her to be honest.” I don’t dare look up, but I can feel his eyes on me. “But I guess people look for younger dogs. And Aussie’s are pretty high maintenance, not to mention merle’s come with their fair share of health problems.” I scratch at her ear and watch her tilt into my hand. “She’s ok now, but it can be a bit much for some people to handle. I guess their patterning isn’t to everyone’s taste either.” I shrug.

“It’s worth it though, isn’t it?”

I grin and rub her head vigorously, making her ears flap with soft claps. “Absolutely!”

I laugh as she bounces closer to me and starts licking underneath my jaw. Her tail wags harder with every weak protest I make, as if she’s hearing praise rather than faux-commands, but through the commotion and noise, I catch the way Marco curls and strokes his fingers along her neck with a soft smile and even softer whisper.

“You’re a lucky girl, huh?”

I eventually manager to push her away, and face Marco again. “Y’know, I live pretty close by.” He looks at me with a raised eyebrow, so I continue. “Just down Trost way? I’ll probably take her to King’s Park now and then; you’re welcome to come say ‘hi’ anytime you spot us.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” I laugh a little at his surprise, but swallow harshly as I try to get the next words out as quickly as possible. “She’ll miss you, you know.” There’s a pause that I’m certain is only awkward for me – because who the hell else is too incompetent to even talk about a _dog’s_ feelings – so I quickly try to inject some poor humour with a smirk. “Besides, if what they say about dogs looking like their owners is true, I guess that’s kind of what you’ve been this whole time, even if it is unofficially.”

He seems partially pleased at the comment, but he also looks thoroughly confused, and given the frequency with which it happens, I shouldn’t still find it so jarring to realise when someone isn’t on the same wavelength.

Cue awkward, fumbling explanation.

Why do I ever fucking bother?

“Uh, b-because she has all these black spots, and you’ve got freckles? And they kinda-”

He thankfully cuts me off with a surprised nudge and a roll of the eyes, but his cheeks are pink for whatever reason. Probably second hand embarrassment. Fuck knows what my own face looks like.

“I mean it.” I say, somehow finding the nerve to meet his eyes again. “Anytime.”

He smiles, and gives Evie one last, long stroke.

“Thanks, er…”

“Jean.”

“Thanks, Jean.” He smiles again and stands up. “I’m really glad I met you.”

I smile back, and surprise myself with how genuine my reply is. “Me too, Marco.”

With a final pat to Evie’s head, and a happier smile at me, Marco makes his way down the corridor, never once looking back. It’s only when I hear the door click shut that I turn back to Evie and rub both my hands up and down her thick tuff with a wide grin. I kiss the top of her head as I finally stand back up and unravel the lead a bit from my hand.

“‘Bout time we left, don’cha think?”

Evie happily pulls ahead as soon as I take a step away from her old kennel, and we walk to our last check in with Sandra and the stuck-up receptionist, before we _finally_ , get to go home.

I can’t wait.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m tired of being alone.”

Those aren’t the first words I expect to be greeted with when I meet Armin at the park, but they are all I get before he starts walking through the gate, blindly holding the spare Styrofoam cup out to me behind him, and clearly expecting me to follow without complaint.

We’ve known each other long enough that he assumes right, and that it better damn well be a hazelnut latte in that cup.

“Good morning Armin.” I wrap Evie’s lead around my other hand and shove her ball in my pocket with a smile down at her. I take the cup, and a sip, before continuing. “Are you sure you want to be having this conversation with me? Do I need to mentally prepare myself? Plan an escape route?”

He scoffs as I finally fall in step with him.

“Please. I’m not that bad. Yet.” He takes a sip of his own drink, and I realise how deep his frown actually is. “Trust me, I won’t be coming to you if I feel even the slightest bit teary. I’ve well and truly learnt that unfortunate lesson.”

“I did warn you.” I shrug, gently pulling Evie out of a pushchair’s way. “I still don’t know why you came to me for break-up advice.”

“Probably the same reason I’ve come to you for relationship advice.”

“Everyone else got tired of your bullshit?”

“ _I_ got tired of everyone _else’s_ bullshit.” Ah. Humour will not necessarily be appreciated. Noted. “Everyone’s either in their honeymoon period, or they’re Ace, or they’re all _oh Armin, you’ll find someone soon – you just have to be patient._ I don’t want to wait. I’m tired of being patient, and being alone, and I want to go home to someone who isn’t Eren - looking at me like I’ve got a second head - or a flashing message light from Mikasa.”

“Wow.” I let the silence settle for a bit. “Are you sure you’re not going to cry?”

“Jesus Christ, Jean.” He shoves me to the side, grumpy and very un-Armin like, and I can’t help but chuckle and give him a light push back. “I hate you. I don’t know why I still talk to you. I don’t know why I even called to meet up with you. I should’ve known better.”

“Honestly, you really should have.” I smile at his death glare, and bask in the Freaky Friday shit that’s going down. I give it an hour before our roles are returned. “How long’s Eren staying with you?”

“I dunno.” He accepts the change in topic, but he still answers with grumbles. “‘Til he can afford his own place, or find a room that doesn’t have the shining potential to be a murder scene. Did he tell you about the flatshare in Ragako?”

“Yeah, he did.” I answer with a laugh. It’s funny now, but at the time…

“So, yeah. It’s already been three months, but it’ll probably be a while yet ‘til he finds somewhere.” We separate to walk around a small group of power-walking grannies, and follow the bend of the path to a more quiet area of the park. “I don’t mind.” Armin continues seamlessly. “Of course I don’t. But I just… I want someone _more_. And Eren doesn’t understand that. He, self-admittedly, never really has, but after what happen with Annie, he looks at me like I’m crazy for wanting a relationship. But I do. I want to come _home_ to someone. I want to be hugged, and ‘special smile’ed at, and kissed, a-”

“And get laid.”

“Jean!”

“It’s true though, isn’t?” I smirk at his disapproval, but Armin can’t hide from me, and he shouldn’t even bother with that blush on his cheeks.

“And I want to get laid.” He mumbles, looking at the ground, frown never once letting up.

“Even if you did have someone, Eren’s crashing has got to be one of the biggest boner kills.”

Armin rolls his eyes. “What about you?” I raise my eyebrow. “It’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone, hasn’t it? Don’t you get lonely?”

I hum in thought, and let my eyes drift around the park as I think of an honest, and serious, answer for him. “I guess, sometimes.” I shrug. “But I don’t really crave company or romance in general, y’know? If I like someone, then I want them there all the time. But it’s so hard to meet someone that doesn’t piss me off.” Armin scoffs, but he knows it’s true. “Even one night stands seem more hassle than they’re worth these days.”

“You sound like an old man!” There’s finally a laugh, and I smile down at him, even though he’s clearly taking the piss. “You’re 25 and you’re already throwing the towel in?”

“No. But I can’t really be bothered to look right now. I’m more than happy with Evie for companionship, and my hands for everything else.”

“Jesus.” He chuckles breathlessly in shock, dragging his hand down his face in what I can only assume is despair. It makes me grin.

“Hey, they’ve gotten pretty good after all those years of practice. Not much else to miss as far as I’m concerned.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Still? After all these years?”

“Somehow.” He answers with a fond smile. We walk a little ways in silence, pausing once or twice at the odd, particularly interesting tree for Evie.

“Can I recommend it?” I suggest, swallowing the bitter dregs of my drink and tossing it in the trash as we pass.

“What, you’re hands?”

“No, no.” I laugh, pleased to see his general mood lifted. “Rescuing a dog. Getting a pet.”

Armin grimaces with a look to Evie, and I make sure the – only half-fake – offense is clear on my face. “There’s nothing wrong with her.” He’s quick to start with. “But that’s not the kind of companionship or love I’m looking for, Jean. I’m not that kind of lonely. I have Eren for that.”

I laugh at the implication, and bend down to ruffle the fur on Evie’s head, just in case she caught the disapproving look.

“You’d be surprised, y’know. The affection you get from animals can be very fulfilling.”

“Yeah.” He deadpans. “Never really got that.”

“Words from a man who’s never had a pet.”

“Also words from a man who never wants one.”

“Y’know,” I start to tease. “My Dad used to say you could never trust someone you doesn’t like animals or children.”

“Jean. _You_ don’t like children.”

“Yes. But I like animals.”

“And _I_ like children.” I go to retort, but he cuts me off before I can continue our stupid bickering. “There must be something in it though.” He smiles up at me, the widest he’s done all day. “I’ve never seen you quite this happy before. Certainly never for this long. What’s it been, a month?”

“Just over.” I grin, giving Evie another quick rub. He’s right, of course, because he’s Armin, and Armin is very rarely wrong. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since I finally got Evie home, and seeing her just as happy there as I am to have her, makes jumping through all those hoops, and walking down that awful corridor time and again more than worth it.

“She’s very cute.”Armin smiles at me, but before either of us can say anything more, Evie completely ruins the moment as I’m suddenly tugged forward, and she starts barking quickly.

“Hey!” I frown at her in confusion as she bounces and tries to run forward, her tail wagging and paying no mind to me or a quickly shying away Armin. “Evie! What’re yo-” I look up to see where she’s trying to pull me, and start as I see Marco, kitted out in grey run-wear, paused midstride, and looking at us completely taken aback. He’s mostly fixed on Evie, but I can still clearly see his disbelief and, is that hope?

I chuckle and crouch to unclip Evie’s lead, Armin asking what the hell I’m doing and more than likely panicking a little. As soon as the leash is off, she bounds over to Marco full pelt, thankfully avoiding everyone else on the path. He seems too shocked to move for a second, before he turns to fully face her and _beams_ , laughing giddily as she gets closer and jumps up to him, tail wagging so hard and quick she’s hitting herself with it. He stoops down and hugs her, hands constantly moving to pet her everywhere, and getting quite a few licks in return.

I smirk as I slowly walk up to them, giving them some time to themselves, and Armin follows me bewildered but unquestioning. I’m so taken with the sight in front of me, I barely notice Armin hanging back as I reach them.

“Well, looks like someone missed you.” Marco looks up at me, and all the teasing and warmth in me freezes as I see tears in his eyes. Again. Christ, please don’t cry. At least Armin’s here to bail me out if he does. But really, it’s better all round if he just _doesn’t do it_.

It’s a long second of silence, before I realise that the watery sheen of his eyes isn’t going to fall, and I find myself relaxing again and managing to make my strained smirk a little more genuine again. He at least has the decency to look a bit bashful at how emotional he is – maybe at the entire situation? – but he can’t hide his happiness.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, but the smile never leaves his lips, and he can’t seem to move his hands away from Evie’s thick coat.

“Why are you apologising?”

“Well, I don’t want to intrude.” My eyebrow rises as I look down at him, watching how happy Evie is to see him again.

“What’re talking about? I told you you could come say ‘hi’ anytime.”

“I-I know, but…” He trails off a bit, looking at Evie rather than me as he flushes a lightly. “I saw you a couple times, here. I-”

“‘A couple times’?” I interrupt, and I’m doing a poor job of hiding my surprise. “This is literally the third time we’ve come here.”

“Oh! W-well, I told you, I live right on top of this park. It’s harder to miss people coming here, than it is to spot them.” I’m sure that’s true, but I also don’t doubt that he was probably looking out for Evie turning up. It sounds creepier than I actually find it.

“Why didn’t you come say ‘hi’?”

“W-well, you’ve only just got her, and I didn’t want to, overstep my mark or something? I mean, _you’re_ her owner, but if she’s still settling in, she might seem more excited to see me, because I’ve known her longer, but she shouldn’t react more to me than she does you, not that I’m saying she does! B-but, I thought it would be rude, if I just walked up and she did. Not that I thought she would.” There is a heavenly pause in his nervous rambling, and though he never once takes his eyes off her, something in his gaze seems to shift, and there’s a different kind of fondness there as he whispers. “Honestly, I thought she would have forgotten about me by now.”

I huff and tap the side of leg with the toe of my trainer. He jolts at the touch and looks up at me.

“Idiot. Of course she’d remember and miss you.” I nod towards where she’s still trying to lick his face, her tail is swinging back and forth wildly. He smiles before looking back at her, bowing to rest his head against hers, his arms squeezing her very lightly.

“I missed her too.”

“Honestly,” I try to reprimand, but I can’t help smiling at how happy they both are. “I can’t believe you thought I’d be jealous because she loves you too. She’s a dog Marco. What kind of douchebag do you think I am?”

I thought he might laugh embarrassedly, or start rambling again, but I’m surprised when his head snaps up to look at me.

“You remembered?” It takes a second to figure out he’s referring to his name, but it doesn’t change my response of a confused frown; why wouldn’t I remember?

“Well, it’s not every day that I come across a grown-ass man crying his eyes out, to be fair.”

“Oh!” We both jump a little, and I turn to see the long forgotten Armin step up next to me with a smile. “So you’re the guy who made Jean freak-out and take an extra hour picking Evie up.”

“Hey!” I don’t know why I object, because we all know full well that ‘freak-out’ was exactly what I did, and always do when there’s tears involved. But I feel sharp tug on the need to defend myself anyway.

At least I’m not the only one embarrassed, if the red streak across Marco’s cheeks is anything to go by. Though his grin as a little too shit-eating than I think it has any right in being.

“Yeah,” He laughs, standing up and brushing his hands on his pants before reaching out to Armin. “That’s me. More commonly known as Marco.”

“Armin.” He smiles, and as they shake each other’s hands politely and happily, a thought occurs to me. It probably won’t work, but it’s always worth a shot.

“Hey,” I catch Marco’s attention. “We were just taking Evie up to the flatter area to play catch.” His eyes instantly drop to the bulging pocket I’m pointing at, and he chokes with a vibrant blush. O-kaay, a little odd, but probably a positive sign. “Wanna join us?”

“Oh! Er,” he looks between us rapidly, cheeks still pink, and rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “It’s okay, I don’t want to-”

“Intrude. Yeah, I got that. Armin, you care if he tags along?”

“Not at all.” He shrugs with a smile.

“B-but, I’m all sweaty and-”

“Yeah, I can see that.” I unconsciously wrinkle nose at the damp black patches on his grey top, but quickly move on. “I wouldn’t ask if I minded Marco.” He still looks a little hesitant, but I can see the way his eyes keep cutting to Evie. “Seriously. I ran out to report you when I saw you crying. Why do you keep thinking I do things for politeness’ sake?”

He snorts and smirks at me, finally conceding with a sigh and a self-conscious cough. “Well, as long as you don’t min-”

“Great!” I bend down to clip Evie’s lead back on. “This is the first time you’d have played with her outside, right?” He nods as I stand back up and hand him the handle. “I promised Armin the first throw, ‘cause he can’t handle the slobber.” I already know Armin’s rolling his eyes without having to look, and even if I didn’t, Marco’s little giggle would have clued me in. “But do you wanna take her?”

He seems surprised by the offer, but it looks like he’s finally caught on to my curtness, because he takes it without question and just smiles down at Evie with a mumbled thanks.

“Lead on then.” I give him an encourage grin and gesture, and he turns around with a quick, perplexed quirk of his eyebrows and a small smile to Armin, before he turns around and talks to Evie as he nudges her on. She’s more than eager to go, and he’s soon pulled ahead a couple of steps, leaving Armin and I to follow leisurely.

“So that’s Marco, huh?” He starts quietly, and I smirk to myself.

“Yep. Was he everything you imagined and more?”

“He’s a lot more put together than you made him sound.” He takes a sip of his drink, smiling at me over the rim. “You’re so dramatic Jean.” He looks back at Marco, who’s still happily chatting with Evie, getting his fair share of odd looks. “He’s taller too.”

“Cuter too?” His head snaps to me quickly.

“What?” I don’t respond, but stare at him until he frowns – very similarly to how Marco had, actually – and answers unsurely. “I guess? I mean, he’s not the 40 year-old, traumatic nutjob you made him out to be. But he’s not exactly my type.”

“No?” It takes a second, but he catches on and scowls at me.

“Jean.”

“Hear me out Armin. You ask to meet me, here, of all places, to complain about how much you want to meet someone new, preferably affectionate, and eager for a relationship. And then we bump into Marco, polite, decent looking guy, who’s _very_ affectionate, and is probably looking for some company himself.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Have you tried?” He groans

“I dunno Jean.” The sarcasm is _thick_. “Have you tried not being bi?”

“Well,” I smirk at him, and he’s already rolling his eyes. “I am currently not boning one man and one woman at the same time, and have discovered I am still 100% bisexual. You too could have this peace of mind, if you ask out the equally lonely and emotional, kinda cute, and perfectly nice guy in front of you.”

“Did he tell you he was a nice guy, ‘cause I’ve heard stories about men like that.”

“No,” I laugh. “Of course he didn’t. I know because a guy doesn’t go to a pound everyday for two months to play with an abandoned dog if he’s an asshole.”

“That’s another thing.” Armin says, throwing his empty cup in the bin as we pass by. “Even if I _was_ interested in guys, I wouldn’t want to date someone who more attached to a dog than they were to me.”

I look up to the sky, and exaggeratedly rub my chin in thought.

“So _that’s_ why I’m single.”

Armin laughs and bumps his shoulder into my arm. “You’re an asshole.”

I smile at him, looking ahead to watch Marco laugh as Evie tries to drag him along faster.

“It’s a shame.” I mumble. “I actually think you two would be pretty cute together.”

“I’m sorry I’m straight.”

“It’s okay. You can’t help how you’re born.” He shakes his head at me with a wry smile. “But I did just want make sure you _are_ straight.” My eyes trail up Marco’s sweaty back. “‘Cause the height difference between you two would be both hysterical and adorable. I mean, just imagine hugging him.”

“Do you always pair up your friends like this?” Armin asks me sceptically, looking at me like I’ve lost a vital component.

I rise my eyebrow at him.

“Isn’t that why you called to meet me?”

“Touché.” He answers with a small, bashful smile, and I smirk back at him. “I forget how smart you are sometimes.”

“That has everything to do with how much time you spend with Jaeger, and nothing to do with my own actions.”

Armin doesn’t bother arguing as we catch up with Marco, standing just where the trees start thinning and the expanse of grass lays flat, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry we pulled ahead a bit.”

“It’s fine.” I answer honestly, just managing to bite off the _‘it gave us a chance to talk about you’_ that was about to follow, remembering that Marco was still new to me and probably wouldn’t appreciate my blunt honesty yet.

We walk a little further into the clearing before I bend down to unclip Evie’s lead, handing Armin the ball a second later.

“Would you so kindly do the honours?” I gesture to the openness and Evie herself, eyes zeroed in on the tennis ball, and body stock still in waiting.

Armin rolls his eyes, and throws terribly lacklustre.

Evie zooms ahead, and we all watch as the ball lands two metres in front of us.

“That was terrible.” I mumble as she spins round at the thud, and races back to where the bright neon lays pathetically.

“Shut up.” Armin grumbles. “I haven’t thrown anything since high school gym.”

“You didn’t even try!”

“So? She doesn’t care.” He points to where Evie drops the ball at his feet, tail wagging before she goes completely still again and watches for the slightest movement of the ball.

“She does.” I argue quietly. “She’s just too kind to judge.”

“She’s a dog, Jean.” He picks up the ball, and grimaces. “Why is already wet?”

“I told you.” I grin over at Marco, who politely covers his mouth as he laughs. “This time with feeling, Armin.”

I can’t distinguish what he says under his breath, but I have no doubt it’s something along the lines of cursing me to hell as he pulls his arm back as far as he can, and lobs the ball with everything he has.

It makes a pitiful sound as it bounces a little ahead of us.

“Shut up.” He growls as Marco and I stifle our laughter. “I’m out.”

“I guess it’s just me and thee then Marco.” I smile at him over Armin’s head, before bending down and reaching for the ball before Evie can put it down, and her tail wags quickly as she realises I’m the one about to throw. Sorry Armin.

I throw it as hard as I can, and watch Evie pelt along the ground as the ball soars ahead of her and lands a few good metres in front.

“To continue our previous conversation,” I glance at Armin to make sure he’s listening. “I’m not really sure I can help out. Most of my friends are your friends, and pretty much everyone else has got their eye on someone.” As Evie starts making her way back, I point at Marco, who instantly starts patting his thighs. “Take it to Marco, Evie.”

Don’t think I don’t catch that criticising look Armin. She’s a lot smart than you think.

“I mean, there’s Hitch, but…” I don’t need to elaborate. We both know Armin and her wouldn’t be a great match, and that’s without considering how close she used to be with Annie.

We watch as Evie bounds over to Marco, and excitedly spits the ball at him when he starts chanting a sickly sweet, “Good girl!” in praise.

I catch his curious glance at us as he stands up again.

“Armin’s looking for a girlfriend.” I answer his unspoken question, and go back to sifting through all the names and faces in my mind at his quiet and understanding, _‘Ah.’_

“I have a new neighbour. She’s very pretty, but it’s only been six months, so I don’t know her name or what she’s like.”

“Does she still count as ‘new’ if it’s been six months?” Marco questions quietly as I crouch down again to let Evie know I’ll be the next to throw

“She’ll be the ‘new neighbour’ to Jean until someone else moves in.” I glare at Armin answering for me, though I don’t deny it. “And that’s very helpful, Jean.”

“Hey, pretty and mysterious sound like a winning combination to me.”

“That’s not surprising, given the Mikasa episode. But I’d like something a bit more substantial to go on.” Marco looks suitably lost as he starts patting his legs again, but he’s too polite to ask questions.

“Isn’t that the point of dating though?” I argue. “To get to know them. _Make_ them more substantial.”

“I guess.” He sighs. “But I’ve had enough awkward first dates to last me a lifetime. I just want something… more sure, y’know?”

I do know. I know that Annie did a number on him, and that it’s perfectly reasonable that he’d only want to put himself out there if there was a chance of mutual interest. Not necessarily attraction, but something that won’t have them spending their first hour together silent and crippled with uncomfortable self-doubt.

Been there, my friend.

The idea only occurs to me when I crouch down again. “Hey,” I catch both their attention, but look up at Marco. “Do _you_ know any hot chicks for Armin?”

“Jean!”

“Um,” Marco stutters, nervous about being involved in the conversation, but actually looks to be thinking about it.

“Y’know what, no.” Armin snaps at me, briefly glancing _almost_ apologetically at Marco, but it’s not very effective when he’s frowning so hard. “I’m sorry, but you guys hardly know each other. Trying to adopt the same dog does not make you _not_ strangers, and doesn’t mean he’s in any position to set me up with anyone!”

“Maybe.” I shrug, easily brushing Armin’s ire aside. “But it _does_ mean he’s got great taste.”

Marco laughs, and I grin back at him, completely ignoring Armin’s despondent growl.

“How many times? I don’t want a _dog_ Jean!”

“I was kidding, Ar.” I roll my eyes. “But if you can’t find anyone, and I can’t think of anyone, what’s the harm in asking? Right?”

Armin sighs as I get ready to throw again, and we both look at Marco pointedly.

“Oh! Um,” he scratches his nose as the turns away in thought, before peeking back at Armin. “I mean, I know a couple of girls, but I guess it depends on your type?”

Armin looks to be considering the question, but before he can say anything, I ask bluntly, “What are the options?”

Armin hisses at me, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing to ask. I’m pretty sure it’s got to the point where Armin doesn’t even know what he wants beyond _someone_ anyway. Marco doesn’t seem to take it too badly either, answering with little hesitation.

“Well, the first people who come to mind are Nanaba and Isabel.” He says, eyes lifted as he pauses before describing them. “They’re complete opposites really. Nanaba’s very serious, but incredibly caring.” He looks down at Armin with a smile. “Very sweet too, but she’s not one for public affection. She’s quite quiet.”

I refrain from boasting as Armin very visible becomes interested in what Marco’s saying.

“Isabel… she’s very boisterous.” He frowns at Armin little. “I guess it depends on what type of relationship you’re looking for too? ‘Cause Isabel, well, it’s kind of hard to tell when she’s interested in someone, or just, very _enthusiastic_ about them. So if you’re looking for fun, at least at first, then Isabel’s lovely. She’s quite, overtly confident, but she’s always looking for new adventures and people to meet. Nanaba’s a bit more cautious, but then she’s older… I know some other single girls, but I think those two are more likely to be looking for a relationship right now.”

We both stare at Marco for a good minute, which makes him blush and second guess what he’d just said. As Evie taps my foot impatiently, I slap my hand across Armin’s shoulder and I bend for the ball, smug as hell.

“I told you.”

“Shut up.” He mumbles again, and- yep, that’s a little blush right there.

If there’s one thing I’m most confident about, it’s my judge of character. Marco’s a good guy, and he’s a good judge himself.

“They, sound nice.” Armin continues shyly, looking at Marco and completely ignoring me. “I’m still not, entirely comfortable with being set up by a stranger though…”

“That’s okay,” Marco laughs. “It’s understandable. But I could always ask them if they’re looking, if you like?”

“Um, yeah.” He’s looking at the ground and tucking a piece of hair behind his ear, and I swear to God, it looks like he’s asking _Marco_ out. If that boy could just be a _little_ flexible… “If you don’t mind.”

Marco smiles widely and kindly, but he _beeps_ before he can say anything else, catching us all of guard. He fumbles about his person, finally pulling out his phone and cursing quietly to himself.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, looking at Armin, then me, and finally lingering on Evie who’s peering up at him, curious about the noise. “I forgot I needed to get back. Um,” he meets Armin’s eyes again and holding out his hand. “It was nice to meet you, and I’ll definitely ask them, okay?”

“Thanks,” he shakes his hand. “And I’m glad we met too.”

Another blinding smile, before he holds his hand out to me, looking a bit more embarrassed about it.

I wonder how long it’s going to take for him to get over it.

But then, if _I’d_ been caught crying in public, I’d probably never leave my house again.

“And it was good to see you again Jean. And… thanks, again.”

“You too, Marco.” I take his hand firmly. “And I mean it. Come join us anytime.”

His smile softens, before he lets go and quickly bends down to Evie, who takes that to mean he’s going to throw the ball and proceeds to completely ignore his petting.

“See ya girly.” He laughs, and then he’s up and jogging the way we came, throwing a quick wave behind him that Armin and I return with a smile.

“I guess,” Armin says as we watch him disappear. “If I _was_ into guys, he wouldn’t be too bad.”

I laugh as I pander to Evie’s pestering, and reach for her ball again.

“I knew it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter... felt a bit odd? So if anyone has any advice, I'd be grateful to hear it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'd be grateful for any and all feedback.  
> Also, I have a vague idea of where this story's headed - and some scenes already planned/written out - but if there's something you'd particularly like to see, I'm more than open to suggestions!  
> Thank you for reading!


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